What Do You Really Want

In fervent ardor, I lavish you with attention's warmth, Yet, in your eyes, a fleeting glance, a whispered form. I overextend, in zealous pursuit of your delight, But still, you murmur discontent, a lingering night. I strive to be present, a constant, steadfast friend, But suddenly, my presence is a weight that offends. I pour my heart, a boundless, overflowing sea, And still, you whisper, "It's not enough," a plea. I reach out, a tender touch, a call to soothe your soul, But you recoil, a distant chill, a silence that makes me fold. Am I too much, a love that's overgrown? What do you really want, a love that's unknown? Is it love you seek, or something more obscure? I'm lost, a wanderer, in this labyrinth of your allure. Every effort I make, a labor of my heart, Goes unnoticed, a fleeting thought, a love that's apart. I strive to be committed, loyal, and true, But my devotion's met with indifference, anew. I ask, "What do you want?" a plea, a cry, a sigh, And wait, a hopeful heart, for your response, a reply. If I'm over loving, if I'm too much, too bold, Please, let me know, that I may learn to unfold. My love, my heart, my everything, I give to you, But what do you really want, my love, my heart or somet